


It's possible that he wants you too

by belovedmuerto



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Idiots in Love, M/M, bucky is exasperated, steve is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedmuerto/pseuds/belovedmuerto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bucky kissed me this morning,” Steve says, not quite believing the words even as they’re coming out of his mouth.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Sam replies. “Back up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's possible that he wants you too

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Moonblossom for telling me the ending isn't dumb and that this is cute, so if it's not, blame her because she told me to post it.
> 
> In my GDocs, this is called "kiss the girl" because I'm epically unclever but I amuse myself at least, so the title is from that song. Like I said, I am epic in my lack of cleverness.

“Bucky kissed me this morning,” Steve says, not quite believing the words even as they’re coming out of his mouth.

“Wait,” Sam replies. “Back up.”

\----

Steve supposes, if he’s completely honest with himself, that he started it. He’d been brewing coffee, standing by the counter in the kitchen, and Bucky had shuffled in, already dressed but not completely awake, taken one look at him, and said flatly, “What’s wrong.”

It hadn’t sounded like a question, even though Steve knew he should answer.

But he just shrugs, because he doesn’t know how to put it into words. 

They’re in the Tower, because they spend at least one night a week in the Tower. Partly it’s to please Tony, and partly it’s because Bucky prefers to get his therapy sessions over with early in the morning, and it’s easier just to stay there, rather than try to make the commute from the place they’re sharing in Brooklyn. Partly it’s because Steve tries to schedule whatever meetings he’s got this week, for Avengers business or with Pepper about any of the three different foundations that Stark started that he works with for the same days as Bucky’s therapy (there’s one that helps sick children, and another that assists homeless vets, and a third that works with matching therapy animals with veterans). It gives him an excuse to be at the Tower with him, an excuse to wake up in the next room that morning, and be on the couch when Bucky gets back, drained and pale, from the therapist.

He doesn’t always feel like he’s doing much good in the world, anymore, but this helps. Working with Stark’s foundations helps. Being there for Bucky when he gets back helps.

Sometimes it’s all too much, though.

Bucky crowds into his space, grumbling, mumbling _something_ at him, something not in English; he still reverts sometimes to Russian, to Portuguese, to German and French and any number of languages that Steve doesn’t remember him knowing, and Steve doesn’t understand all of what he’s saying, but he can tell from the tone of voice and the crease between his eyes that Bucky’s calling him a dumb punk who never knows anything about anything.

So Steve crowds him right back, because it’s true. He is a dumb punk, and he doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants, what he needs, but he knows how to take it, and he knows Bucky will let him, will give it to him no questions asked. So he crowds Bucky across the kitchen, to the counter. Bucky stops when his back hits it, but Steve just pushes, scowling, gestures at him, not quite looking him in the eye, and finally Bucky gets the hint, levers himself up. Up onto the counter, and Steve steps between his legs and tucks his head under Bucky’s chin and sags into him.

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve, flesh and metal, around his head and shoulders, keeping him close, and presses his lips against the top of his head, still murmuring, though it’s in English now.

“I’ve got you, Stevie,” he’s saying. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.”

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist, clinging to him, and sighs. He lets Bucky’s arms around him reassure him, make him feel small and safe again, just a for few minutes, and that’s what he needs. He doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t know where it came from, but he lets himself be soothed nonetheless.

Bucky doesn’t question it, just rests his chin on top of Steve’s head after a few moments, the way he used to, when Steve was sick, or in those rare moments when Steve would let himself be comforted. He doesn’t say any more, he just holds onto Steve the way Steve wants, needs. 

Neither of them speaks for a long time, but eventually Steve pulls back, and Bucky lets him. Steve looks up at Bucky. He’s smiling down at Steve, gentle, an expression on his face that Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen, at least not directed at him. He blinks up at Bucky, and Bucky puts his hands on Steve, on his neck and his cheek.

And then Bucky’s kissing him, soft and slow and almost agonizingly tender. Steve falls into it headfirst, into the sweetness of it, the checked passion he can feel behind it, the underlying desperation that pulls a soft moan from deep within his chest.

Bucky kisses him, and kisses him, and Steve is helpless to do anything other than hold on and kiss him back, and then it’s over. Bucky nips his lower lip as he pulls away, and watches as Steve tries to regain his equilibrium under the onslaught, gently pushes him a few steps back, and hops off the counter. 

Bucky smirks while Steve blinks at him, still incapable of higher brain function. He reaches up and pats Steve gently on the cheek, maybe runs his thumb briefly across Steve’s bottom lip.

“I’ve got a long one today, Stevie. See you later, alright?”

Steve nods, or at least he thinks he does, and then Bucky’s gone.

\----

“Captain Rogers, I must insist that you respond,” JARVIS is saying, Steve has no idea how much later, “otherwise I will be forced to notify Sir and whomever else is currently in the Tower that you require--”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Steve says, finally forcing words past his lips. 

“Very good, Captain. Shall I inform Miss Potts that you will be arriving presently for your meeting?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, JARVIS.”

“My pleasure, Captain.”

Steve blinks again, and rubs his hands over his face. He has no idea how long he’s been standing like a statue in the kitchen, struck dumb by the fact that Bucky had kissed him.

Bucky had kissed him.

\----

“So how long did you stand in the kitchen?” Sam asks. He’s being casual, like he’s not laughing at Steve, at the way he’d reacted.

“Hey asshole, I was surprised as hell.”

“You’re not answering. Don’t think I don’t notice, dude.”

Steve grimaces at the phone. “A while, alright? It was awhile.”

Sam laughs, but instead of being annoyed, Steve just finds it comforting. 

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, he just left. Told me he’d see me later.”

“Well, perhaps you should try to figure it out, try to figure out what you want from him.”

\----

Months and months ago, Steve had gone for a walk in Central Park. He likes the park, all its meandering paths. Normally he’d be jogging, but he’d overslept and frankly just didn’t feel quite up to it.

He may be a super soldier, but it’s not like he doesn’t have off days. Everyone has off days. Steve is slowly learning that he’s allowed to allow himself an off day. He’s allowed to indulge himself once in a while, he’s not on tour anymore, he doesn’t always need to show the world a smile. (Bruce has been speculating that he should probably still get a flu shot every year, just to be on the safe side. Because the serum can’t keep him safe from everything. Tony finds it fascinating, and Steve worries occasionally what they’re cooking up together, down on the R&D floors where they both practically live.) 

He’d passed this one homeless guy on his way into the park, and he notices that he’s being followed shortly into his stroll. He’s been followed on all of his jogs and walks and meanderings around New York for a while now, several weeks at least. Different followed than the usual followed, the “it’s a security detail, Captain, we’re not spying on you” followed. He’s been trying not to make it obvious that he notices, because every time he realizes he’s being followed a flare of hope flames to life in his chest and he wants to shout his potential joy to the rooftops. And every time he lets on that he knows that he’s being followed, this particular tail disappears.

The homeless guy shuffles along while Steve walks, keeping his distance but clearly following. Just as clearly he’s not attempting to hide that he’s following Steve, and doesn’t stop or dart away or anything at all when Steve glances back at him. This is different from the past, and it makes that hope in his chest burn all the brighter.

Steve stops at a hot dog stand and buys two hot dogs, a couple bottles of water. He could easily eat both of them and then some himself, but he figures he should go easy. He takes the food over to a nearby bench and sits, eating his own hotdog slowly. He puts the other one, the second bottle of water down next to him on the bench, just far enough away to be a clear invitation.

And a few minutes later, the homeless guy comes around the back of the bench and drops down onto it, just out of easy reach. He grabs the hotdog and eats it in three bites, guzzles half the water bottle before belching and groaning a little.

“I’m definitely going to regret that,” Bucky says. Steve glances over at him, afraid to look too closely for fear that it won’t be him after all. 

“Why?”

“Ugh, you think I’ve had much opportunity to be fed actual food the past-- recently? Let alone shitty hot dog stand hot dogs?”

Steve shrugs, because he has no idea how to answer that.

“Food is not my strong suit these days,” Bucky adds. He doesn’t sound happy about it, but resigned.

“What is?” Steve can’t help asking. This is unutterably surreal, and yet he can’t keep the stupid grin off his face. 

Bucky gives him such a flat, dead-eyed glare that Steve can’t help feeling sheepish, and he’s sure it shows on his face, so he changes the subject.

“You smell awful,” he says.

Bucky glares for a moment more, and then shrugs. “Yeah, probably.”

For a while, they sit in silence, and then Bucky speaks again. “Look, if we’re going to do this, let’s get it over with. Bring on the cavalry or whatever.”

Steve blinks at him, “What?”

“I’m assuming you’re not here to bring me in by yourself.” Bucky sounds angry, almost betrayed.

“What?” Steve says again.

Bucky looks around, and then hunches in on himself. “Just do it, Steve. Let’s get this over with.”

“Buck, there’s no one with me. You came to me.”

“You were looking for me. You stopped.” Bucky’s voice has dropped, a bare whisper.

“I figured you didn’t want to be found. You’d come in when you were ready. Is that what this is?”

“I’m not ready.”

“Okay.”

“But I need to--” He cuts himself off, and Steve waits. 

After several minutes, Bucky speaks again. “I can’t do it anymore, Steve.”

“All right. Well, I know somewhere we can go. Get you cleaned up, a safe place to bunk down for a day or two. When you are ready, we can go in. Together. I won’t let them take you, Bucky. Not without me.”

Bucky nods. “Yes.”

Steve stands. He gathers his own trash, and takes Bucky’s as well, walking over to the trash can by the hot dog cart and getting rid of it. He keeps his eyes open, and his detail doesn’t seem to be close at the moment. They generally leave him alone (mostly) when he’s in the park, giving him the illusion of space, of privacy.

He goes back to Bucky. “We need to be quick about this.”

Bucky just nods. “Can you lose them?” Because he obviously already knows about Steve’s “security”. 

It’s Steve’s turn to glare, and he adds a snort. “Can I lose them? Fuck you, Barnes.”

Bucky grins at him, and for a moment all Steve can do is grin back.

“Punk,” Bucky smirks.

“Jerk.”

And they’re off.

\----

There are the usual, obvious entrances to Stark Tower: the front door, the delivery bays. There’s Tony’s super swanky rooftop patio thing. They’re all under heavy surveillance. There’s also the fourth entrance, known only to those closest to Stark himself; mostly the Avengers and their various chosen family members. It’s down around the block, off an anonymous alley that doesn’t appear to be running alongside the Tower at all.

There’s also the hidden, underground entrance, and it’s to this entrance that Steve brings Bucky, after a circuitous route through Lower Manhattan and down into the Subway. The door is unobtrusive and marked with several signs warning of electrocution and hard hats being required and authorized personnel only and Steve walks right through it with Bucky on his tail. They walk down a pitch black corridor and turn a corner; Steve has Bucky’s dirty sweatshirt sleeve between his fingers, leading the way. They keep walking for a few more steps, and then Steve says, “JARVIS, a little light please?”

And the lights come up, soft enough as not to hurt their eyes, but enough to see where they’re heading, towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

“Do you remember Howard?” Steve asks, looking back at Bucky as they stand waiting for the elevator to arrive.

Bucky shakes his head.

“Well, Tony’s his kid. Smarter than him. Even more paranoid, too. JARVIS runs the Tower; he’s an artificial intelligence.”

 

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS pipes in, gentle. “Please let me know if you ever require assistance.”

“You get used to it,” Steve says, shrugging.

\----

The elevator doesn’t take them straight to Steve’s floor as he’d requested, but higher up, to Tony’s.

Tony is standing just outside the elevator when it opens, wearing one of the gauntlets. It’s pointed at the floor, thankfully. 

“You bringing homeless people home now, Cap?”

“Tony,” Steve starts, but Tony waves him off.

“Whatever, go get him cleaned up. I’ll keep SHIELD off your ass as long as I can.” He turns and walks away, and as the doors close again, Steve hears him muttering, “The shit I do for my friends, jesus wept.”

Steve looks over at Bucky, who is just about cowering in the corner of the elevator, and offers a shrug and a sheepish smile. “Uh, that’s Tony. Um, you get used to him as well?”

\----

They get a couple of days, left in peace in the Tower. Bucky takes an hour long shower, and he dresses in Steve’s clothes, and they mostly sit together, arms around each other, not talking. 

But SHIELD comes for Bucky, and they take him. He goes, mostly willing. They won’t let Steve go with them, and nothing Steve says (shouts) budges them. It’s Bucky who eventually talks Steve into backing down, even though Steve nearly cries at the fear in Bucky’s eyes. 

SHIELD has Bucky for almost two solid months, and Steve stays in the Tower that whole time, doing everything in his power to get to see Bucky again. Nothing seems to work, and Steve feels like he’s going insane with worry the whole time Bucky’s gone, despite the few scraps he’s given to reassure him.

Bucky calls him once. He sounds exhausted on the phone, and desperately unhappy, even though he tries to tell Steve he’s fine. Steve can hear that he isn’t. Bucky says things are going well, but he won’t say what those things are.

He’s given no warning that they’re going to release Bucky. He just wakes up one morning, and shuffles out of his room towards the kitchen, and finds Bucky on the couch in the living room, staring at the tv.

Steve changes direction, crossing the room to Bucky’s side, and collapses onto the couch next to him.

There are another two days then, of peace and quiet between them in the Tower, with them mostly hanging on to each other, and not talking.

\----

Shortly after that, they’d moved to Brooklyn. Steve hadn’t been back much since coming out of the ice, but Bucky said that all he wanted was to go home, so they went back to their old neighborhood, rented an apartment, and moved in. 

The neighborhood is very quickly very protective of them.

They settle into something of a routine. Steve is pretty much refusing to have anything to do with the newly reformed SHIELD, because all he can think is “two more shall grow in its place”, but he does stick with his team (they’re not the Commandos, but they’ll do). Neither of them really knows what comes next, but neither of them particularly cares as long as the other is at his side. They haven’t quite managed to articulate the sentiment to each other, but Steve sometimes thinks he sees it when Bucky looks at him.

Bucky has his therapy sessions, which somehow happen in the Tower (Steve doesn’t ask how or why, and Bucky doesn’t offer explanation), and he goes on runs with Steve, and he slowly starts to relearn himself, and being a real, live human being, and Steve is probably happier than he’s been since the early 40s. Bucky’s started talking about things that interest him, about doing stuff, and Steve can only encourage him. It helps him remember his own interests, and all that therapy Bucky’s going through must be doing some good, if it’s helping make both of them a part of the world again.

And then Bucky kissed him.

\----

“Steve, are you all right?”

Steve blinks and turns his head, taking in Pepper, in her crisp blouse and pencil skirt, those sky high heels she’s always wearing (he wonders idly what Tony thinks of those, and thinks he probably doesn’t want to know). She’s looking at him with concern all across her face.

She’s paused the video they were watching. The remote is still in her hands, and there are files in her lap. One of her many assistants is hovering in the background.

Sometimes, Natasha fills in for a day, as Natalie Rushman again. It drives Tony insane, but both Pepper and Natasha seem to get a kick out of it, and Steve definitely does not want to question that. He learned long ago not to question it when the women in his life do things that confuse him. His mother, and Bucky’s mother and sisters taught him that long before Peggy did. 

Steve blinks at her again, and only then manages to find words. “Yes, sorry. I’m fine.”

She smiles at him, gentle, and Steve is somehow reminded that she can breathe fire if she so desires. “What’s wrong, Steve?”

He’s really glad she likes him. “Bucky kissed me this morning.”

She sits back, surprised. Surprised he’d told her, perhaps? Steve knows that he isn’t the most open person on the team, but then it would be hard to be as open as Tony; everything about Tony’s life is on the internet, or at least it seems that way sometimes.

“And,” she says after a moment, composure already recovered, “is that something new?”

“Yes?”

“Oh.”

“Did you think--?”

“Well, there has been speculation, actually. Mostly from Tony, but I’m sure you could guess that on your own.”

Steve sighs, and looks at his hands in his lap.

“Are you glad that it happened?”

Steve shrugs. “I’m confused.”

“Why?”

“Why would he want to?”

“Oh, Steve,” she says. She smiles at him again. “I think that’s something you’ll have to ask him.”

\----

“Man, it took you long enough,” Sam says, and he’s laughing, when Steve calls him again later that afternoon. Whether he’s laughing at Steve or just laughing, Steve can’t quite tell, but it makes him defensive. He doesn’t even know if Sam’s talking about him and Bucky kissing, or about him calling back.

“I didn’t do anything!” Defensive works. It seems safest just to deny everything. Always a solid policy.

“Did you kiss him back?” Ah, so it is that. Sometimes, Sam continues conversations they’d been having ages or minutes or hours ago, and it takes Steve a moment to catch up, but he likes it, because it’s Sam. It makes him feel like Sam _cares_ , like he’s thinking about Steve and the stuff they talk about when Steve isn’t there. It’s a nice feeling, whether it’s true or not. 

“Sam, that’s really--”

“Yeah, you did. C’mon, Steve, you’ve been in love with the guy for pretty much forever. Shouldn’t you be happy right now?”

“I don’t know why I even talk to you. Why did I call you back?”

“Because I’m such a good friend, Rogers, and you know it.”

“I’m hanging up right now.”

“Dude, go get some.”

“Oh my God, Sam.” And Steve hangs up on him.

He feels bad about it pretty much immediately, but he also feels bad that phones no longer have cradles, because he really would’ve liked to have slammed the receiver down. It would’ve been very satisfying.

\----

Steve is on the couch in the living room when Bucky returns. He’s been gone longer than usual, but Steve vaguely recalls him saying something about having a longer than usual session today, so it’s ok. It was after he’d been kissed within an inch of his life, so it’s a bit fuzzy. 

Bucky walks slowly, and Steve listens to his steps, gauges his mood. It doesn’t sound to him like it had been a particularly intense session, but he can’t always tell for sure just from the way Bucky walks into a room. He sure tries, though.

Steve looks up and smiles at his friend. His sketchbook is in his lap, and the television is on, but the page the book is open to is blank, and the tv seems to be there simply for noise.

Bucky sits beside him. His expression is grim, and Steve isn’t sure why.

“Are you hungry?” Steve asks. Now that he realizes how long he’s been sitting on the couch staring at nothing, he can feel how empty his own stomach is.

“Not really,” Bucky replies. “But I should probably eat anyway.”

Steve smiles a little. “I’ll put together some lunch then. Sound good?”

Bucky shrugs. Steve gets up and heads for the kitchen. Soup and sandwiches sounds easy to do and quick.

“Grilled cheese and soup?” he calls towards the other room as he pulls things out of the fridge and goes on the hunt for canned soup.

“Sure,” Bucky calls back, sounding distinctly unenthused.

“If you want something else you better speak up, Buck.”

“No, it’s fine, I just don’t feel much like food right now.”

Bucky gets that way sometimes. He still says that food isn’t his strong suit, but he eats when Steve eats, and they keep each other on a pretty good schedule. Bucky’s been gaining weight, and Steve doesn’t feel quite so empty inside all the time, when they’re eating at regular intervals.

Bucky’s still on the couch when the sandwiches and soup are ready, and Steve carries plates and bowls over to where he is and sets them on the coffee table. They eat in companionable silence for a bit, content in each other’s company.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Steve asks, eventually. 

Bucky shakes his head. “I just wanna go home, Stevie,” he says softly.

Steve looks at him. “Okay. Should I get us a ride?” 

They usually take the subway back and forth, but Bucky looks like he won’t be able to handle all those people right now.

Bucky gives him half a smile and nods. “Yeah.”

About ten minutes later, JARVIS announces that their ride is waiting for them down in the garage on the Avengers Only level, and they get in the elevator to ride down.

Clint’s in the driver’s seat of the limo that’s waiting for him, and he grins at them as they climb in the back.

“They’ve got you driving now, Barton?” Steve asks as he gets settled. He tries to smile, but he’s not sure it works.

Clint shrugs. “I’ve gotta go pick up Nat, too. You’re on the way.”

Steve decides it’s best just not to ask why Clint is off to wherever to pick up Natasha. 

Clint gives them both a look in the rearview mirror, and then puts the car into gear. 

The drive to Brooklyn from Lower Manhattan probably takes longer than the subway would, but it’s quiet in the car, everything shut out, and it’s peaceful. Bucky leans against Steve’s side and dozes, and Steve watches the city pass them by.

\----

Steve thanks Clint outside their building, and follows Bucky upstairs. When he gets into their apartment, Bucky’s already on the couch with a beer in front of him, flipping through the Netflix queue. Apparently now he does want to watch a movie, now he’s home.

Steve goes into the kitchen and grabs a beer for himself. It won’t get him drunk, but he likes the taste, sometimes. And it’ll give him something to fiddle with, if he needs to occupy his hands and can’t be sketching Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t always like it when Steve draws him, anymore. He’s not sure why.

They settle down in front of the tv. Bucky picks a romantic comedy to watch, and Steve figures he doesn’t want to look at anything sad or dramatic right now. 

Steve lets himself get drawn into the movie for a while, avoiding the conversation he knows they have to have, but when he looks over at Bucky, Bucky’s watching him instead of the tv.

“Just get it over with,” Bucky says, voice still soft, sounding like he’s waiting for Steve to kick him out.

“Buck, why’d you kiss me?”

Bucky looks surprised for a moment, like that’s not the question he was expecting, but he sighs, and shrugs. “I got sick of waiting for you to get a clue.”

Which makes no sense to Steve. “Get a clue about what?”

“The way I feel about you, punk.”

“Oh.” Steve thinks about that for a minute. Is Bucky actually saying what he thinks he’s saying?

“Stevie, when you leave, it’s like you take all the air in the world with you, and I can’t breathe, and I can’t breathe again until you come back.”

“Oh,” Steve says, again.

Bucky glares at him, and starts to get up. Steve grabs him and pulls Bucky back down next to him, and then pulls him in, wrapping his arms around him, tucking his face in against Bucky’s neck, breathing him in.

“I’m an idiot,” Steve mumbles.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty crazy about you anyway.”

“That’s good,” Steve replies. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m never letting you go.”

Bucky puts his arms around Steve. “Good. I’m good with that.”


End file.
